The Slow Death of a Brother
by Almosegosum
Summary: My first real attempt at really depressing stuff. It will be from Sasuke's Point of view. I got the idea from a documentary I watched. Forgive any horrible grammar mistakes, English is my second language. There will be some angst and drama, and depressing stuff. I need practice. Sasuke's POV.


**My first real attempt at really depressing stuff. It will be from Sasuke's Point of view. I got the idea from a documentary I watched. **

**Forgive any horrible grammar mistakes, English is my second language.**

**I don't own Naruto®**

**There will be some angst and drama, and depressing stuff. I need practice.**

**Anyway, on to the story. **

The Slow Death of a Brother

Sasuke's POV

I have never been one for people. The few that I could stand, mother, my aunts and uncles… even father- they were dead now.

Japan too, was dead to me. The city, ever diligent in its need to pack as many people in to a small a space as possible, has lost all affection on my part. No longer my home, now a husk. An empty shell that no longer held safe that which was dear to me.

When I last drove into it, I could not help but compare the gray buildings, now devoid of their illuminating evening coats, to the dozens upon dozens of graves that now litter the compound where I grew up.

My brother and I thought it would be fitting to bury those that died, where their homes were placed -before the fire.

When sitting on the lone surviving porch of the Uchiha Compound, I can't help but imagine the screams. People- family, bound and secured by chains and rope, before their homes where set ablaze with them inside.

Apparently the people of the Uchiha -where not the only ones whom could hold a grudge. When we claimed this part of the world, nearly one thousand years ago, some lesser individuals/clans needed be removed.

Such is the way of progress. When those gifted with great promise, underutilize that which nature had given them, they no longer deserved it. This city would still be grasslands where it not for us.

It seemed they finally recovered their formidable strength over the last few hundred years, and chose to strike when we least expect it. The same day and month, we first took their lands.

We- my brother and I, were spared as a courtesy. We spared the leaders children, so as to not kill off their entire clan, and they returned the favor. It was a mistake on their part.

I was entering my second week of mourning when Itachi first joined me.

He had disappeared the day after the mass funeral.

He did not speak. I was knelt silently in front of the shrine dedicated to our parents, having long since used all my tears. He copied me, before shifting forwards – slowly- till his head was gently laid upon the soft white cushion that held mothers picture.

He breathed in deeply. Her perfume still lingered in the fabric.

I remember her, the only woman whom frequented the clan meets, kneeling next to father. Her presence one of unwavering silent support. I remember her fierce eyes when some would oppose him. The rushed- fearful apologies that dutifully followed.

One evening when a meet breached the three hour mark, I saw her flinch slightly. It was clear that she was uncomfortable. No one dared interfere as the elders spoke.

I wanted to help her, but -I did not want to disappoint father. We were Uchiha's. We would rather suffer, than show weakness- even amongst our own.

Itachi caught the next one. Not a moment passed before he got up, walked across the room- interrupting the grand elder mid speech, and left the meet. No one spoke for the entirety of his absence. A few minutes later he returned.

He walked directly to mother, helped her up, reverently placed the cushion where she knelt, and helped her down once more. She smiled at him, her eyes filled with unmistakable love and adoration.

As much as I hated him back then. As much as I hated the fact that no matter how hard I tried, I would never compare- I was never so proud to be able to call him my brother.

When he returned to his place, he nodded at the elder to continue. The cushion never moved from where he had lain it.

I was brought out of my memories when he started shaking.

Quietly, I got up, and walked out of the room. As I slid the door shut, Itachi screamed for the first time in his life. He could barely utter 'yes' or 'no' for the two months that followed.

Whether from the ripped vocal cords -or grief, I did not know.

The next day I woke to papers that told of another clan-massacre-the same clan suspect in the Uchiha case. No survivors.

Brother sold the business, gave the thousands of patens ranging from various sustainable energy sources, to cheap fabrics that keeps one warm in winter, but cool in summer- to charities that support orphans.

He was nineteen, and I was seventeen. We were the richest children in world. We were completely alone.

Months passed and we wandered the world, settling nowhere. This pattern ended one day when we were to board a jet.

We were walking across the polished floor of the private hanger, Itachi walking a few feet in front of me. He was clothed in large black coat, that nearly brushed the ground when he would breath out heavily, causing a sag in his shoulders. He stopped at the foot of the stairs leading into the aircraft. Then he turned around.

His eyes were red, and tears where running down the now seemingly permanent lines engraved into his face.

He stumbled forwards, reaching out like a blind man that hoped to grasp a support. His bony hand found my shoulder, and he hugged me.

He mumbled into my shoulder that he could not look at me anymore. He said it was killing him. He said he was becoming insane. Every time I had a nightmare, and he had to comfort me. When I spoke he heard father, when I cried he heard mother.

My face was pressed hard into his neck by what felt like a skeletal hand. He smelled of salt and medication. He ripped himself away from me- and I stood alone in the hanger, watching his once broad- powerful shoulders, now thin and frail, as he walked away from me. He seemed to age ten years with every step he took.

When the dot in the sky finally disappeared, I picked up my fallen bag and walked up to the nearest person. I offered them all the money in my wallet and my car keys -for their ticket. I found the corresponding gate and boarded. I did not care to know where I was going.

For the next fourteen hours I mourned my brother -as I had forgotten to, when he had died with the rest of our family.

**If you can spare the time, please review. Just let me know if you read it. Just like, 'Read it'. I will be content. **

**Give tips! People like tips! And critique! People love critique!**


End file.
